His Own Personal Auror
by Elfprinzess
Summary: When Jim Moriarty attempted to kill Sherlock, Sherlock's older brother stepped in and organised a personal body guard for the young Holmes. Needless to say, Sherlock wasn't happy that his brother organised an auror to babysit him. He wasn't happy until he actually met the man, John Watson.


**This is an AU oneshot that I came up with a while ago and I just found it again. Woops :)**

**Doesn't follow any of the Harry Potter books, or anything like that, as it has some characters in it that are dead and others that aren't and so, just accept it, it's not meant to be in proper timeline or anything like that.**

**It does contain John/Sherlock, in other words slash, but it is very mild.**

**I don't own anything you recognise.**

**Read and enjoy :)**

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**Thank you to Sarin, joniskpelare, Raychaell Dionzeros, sneezingpanda12345 and Guest for reviewing! **

**Sarin - thank you for pointing out the few typos and grammar problems, as well as the whole age problems. I forgot I changed the ages half way through writing this, and didn't fix up the beginning, I am sorry. I've corrected the ages now, I think, so hopefully that makes sense**

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When Jim Moriarty attempted to kill Sherlock, and failed because Severus Snape walked in and saved the fifteen year old boy, the school took it very seriously. Security was increased; the Ministry sent aurors and dementors after the fourteen year old psychopath and the professors at Hogwarts kept a close eye on Sherlock Holmes, as well as every student close to either him or Moriarty.

Sherlock's older brother also stepped in and organised with the Headmistress the approval of a personal body guard for the young Holmes. Needless to say, Sherlock wasn't happy.

"I don't need a babysitter." He snarled at his brother, uncaring of who was in the room as well to witness his tantrum.

"Until Moriarty is caught, the auror assigned will remain with you at all times, keeping you from harm. There is no other option Sherlock. He'll arrive tomorrow at breakfast." Mycroft ordered.

Sherlock wasn't happy. While McGonagall and Mycroft discussed the details, the intelligent fifteen year old boy planned everything he could do to chase the auror away.

* * *

The next day, Sherlock, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape stood at the doors, as Hagrid walked up with the bodyguard. Any man is normally dwarfed by Hagrid, but this man was even shorter than average, with close-cropped blonde hair and a solid build.

"Hi, I'm John Watson." The man introduced, offering his hand to McGonagall and then Snape.

"Minerva McGonagall, and this is Severus Snape." Minerva introduced, slightly thrown off by the man's appearance. The man wore muggle clothing and had a cane in one hand, to help him limp around.

John Watson turned to Sherlock, "You must be Sherlock, sorry you got stuck with me, I understand the frustration of overbearing, older siblings."

Sherlock sniffed disdainfully, "Muggle-born, with an elder brother who isn't a wizard. A pyscho-sympathetic limp that your therapist believes to be caused by whatever trauma injured your shoulder. Your family aren't rich, they have enough money to get by and buy necessities but you've estranged yourself from them. You live off of your auror salary, which isn't much, so you wear your brother's old clothes he doesn't want."

Professor McGonagall turned to John to apologise while Snape turned to scold Sherlock for being so rude. They both paused when John let out a laugh and said, "Brilliant. That was amazing! How'd you get all that then?"

The other three people stared in shock at John, even Sherlock.

"People normally tell me to piss off." Sherlock finally spoke.

John shrugged, "It was brilliant though. Seriously, how'd you know?"

"I didn't know, I observed. You're wearing muggle-clothing and are comfortable in them, they're old so they most likely belonged to another family member, or you've had them a while. That means a muggle family. You said yourself you had a sibling, so you most likely inherited clothing from him. Your limp is psycho-sympathetic, you're fine standing and don't ask to sit, but you limp heavily when you walk. A pyscho-sympathetic limp means you have a therapist. You hold your shoulder stiffly, and it's your right. You offered your left hand to shake, so it's still painful, but healed over because it isn't bandaged. A still-painful injury and a limp, had to have been traumatic. Considering you're an auror as well, most likely a fight of some kind. The clothing is from your older brother, and isn't stylish or fashionable, but sturdy and sensible. That generally means you and your family are used to little spending money for luxuries, but you don't have any signs of being malnourished as a child due to lack of money and food, so your family have had enough to get by." Sherlock explained, also shocking the two professors. Sherlock never explained his deductions, just showed off and left.

"How'd you know about me leaving my family?" John asked.

"A guess, a lucky one. You're only 21, 22, so even with your job, you'v enot had long to establish a high income. In any other situation, your parents would help out, even if it was only a little. You could have no family left, but you've already mentioned your brother, so you do. If they're not helping, then they don't approve of you or your job, or you don't approve of them for some reason. Most likely they dislike you for being a wizard, or auror." Sherlock shrugged. "Now tell me why my brother assigned a 22 year old green auror, no offence, to protect his 'precious child brother'."

"Honestly? Everyone else had heard stories about you and wanted to avoid you." John shrugged his left shoulder. "I may be handicapped but I am damn good, and I don't care what people say about you. I'll make up my own mind."

John grinned at the three wizards/witch who were all slightly shocked at how John acted.

"Mr Watson, perhaps we'll leave you to get acquainted with Mr Holmes." McGonagall began, "And tonight after dinner, I'll meet with you to discuss things."

"Of course, pleasure to meet you, and you, professor Snape." John nodded.

The two professors left, leaving the boy and his 'babysitter'. "How about you show me to your dorm?" John asked.

Sherlock turned and walked away. John limped along. The man kept up with Sherlock despite his limp and the boy was slightly impressed.

"Did I get anything wrong?" Sherlock asked.

"My family and I aren't on speaking terms. We aren't rich. I have a therapist and was in an explosion that injured my shoulder and then developed the limp. I wear my siblin'gs clothing because of my limited salary." John spoke carefully.

"All of it right then? Surprising, normally there is something." Sherlock frowned.

"I have an older sister, not brother. And my family aren't muggles, my sister is a squib. She was their favourite, so they always repressed their magic so she felt like she fitted in. When I became an auror, my parents were angry that I didn't settle down as a muggle and act 'normal'." John corrected.

"Oh." Sherlock blinked as he stopped mid-step, not expecting that.

"Come on." John laughed, grabbing the boy and pulling him along. "So you're in Ravenclaw? What's that like? I was in Hufflepuff myself, much to my dad's disappointment, he was in Gryffindor."

* * *

Within a month, Sherlock and John were close friends, even though Sherlock would never admit it. John attended Sherlock's classes, followed him everywhere and did so with his cheery attitude always present. He stayed in his muggle clothes, claiming them comfortable and sensible. He wore jeans, runners and woollen jumpers. Sherlock wondered just how good of an auror John was but knew if he wasn't good, Mycroft wouldn't have hired him.

The fourth night after John had turned up, Sherlock had snuck out of the common room and into an empty classroom with his wand, wanting to experiment and learn more. He finished around 4 in the morning, and turned to leave. As he opened the door, he saw John sitting across from the door.

"About time you finished." John yawned, getting to his feet with help from his cane. "Come on, if we're lucky, we'll get a good couple of hours sleep."

"You're not going to scold me? Tell me off for sneaking around? Treat me like a breakable child?" Sherlock demanded.

John shrugged his left shoulder, "If you want me to. Look, the way I see it, it's like this. Moriarty will try to kill you again. I'll be here to help protect you when that time comes, you know, I'll be the brawn, you be the brains. You're more intelligent than any student or teacher at the school, so if you want to sneak out and teach yourself more, go for it, as long as you aren't going to hurt anyone or yourself. I'll be here watching in case something goes wrong, and if you want, I know a few tricks they won't teach at Hogwarts."

Just like that, John earned Sherlock's approval. No matter how late Sherlock kept John up, or how much Sherlock deprived John of sleep, the man remained cheerful and friendly, giving off the aura of being an innocent, harmless, cuddly man. Even Sherlock began to be fooled and believe that while John was a capable auror, and knowledgeable in spells, the man might be slightly helpful for protection, but Sherlock would have to protect himself from whatever Moriarty sent after him.

He was wrong.

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The attack happened at night, when Sherlock had surprisingly decided to sleep instead of experimenting and exploring.

The boy woke up to a man standing over him with a knife about to slit his throat. Before Sherlock could even yell, the man was on the floor, paralysed and disarmed, with John standing over Sherlock, wand in his left hand, checking his charge for injuries.

The second attempt on Sherlock's life was during one of his visits to Hogsmead, and resulting in Sherlock taking care of one assassin, only to turn around to find John already taking down the final man, the other two already unconscious and bound.

Mycroft increased his efforts to find Moriarty, the school increased security as well, while John started teaching Sherlock spells that didn't require him to speak and would take care of enemies much more efficiently.

The third attempt happened shortly after Christmas, and a week after Sherlock's birthday. Sherlock had walked into his potions class early, like normal. He had an agreement with Snape; as long as he kept quiet, didn't blow anything up, did the homework and did the assignments, the boy could experiment before and after classes, as long as Snape was supervising and Sherlock used his own ingredients. As Sherlock entered the room, he registered Snape by the desk, and was then tackled by John, getting knocked to the ground and having the auror cover his lanky frame with his own stocky one, just as an explosion went off. When the initial explosion was over, leaving amess of rubble and debris, as well as a lingering fire, John stood, gave Sherlock a once over for injuries before finding none and turning to the fire. He put it out quickly and silently, before kneeling at Snape's side and healing the man.

Sherlock stumbled to his feet as he heard people yelling and running outside. He stumbled over to John who had his wand out, still healing the blackened form of Severus Snape.

By the time the rubble was cleared from the door and teachers could enter, John was sitting next to Sherlock, an arm around the clearly shocked teen and Snape was leaning against his burnt desk, almost completely healed aside from a minor concussion.

Madam Pomfrey kept Snape, John and Sherllock in the hospital wing overnight, just in case, but all were perfectly healed by the morning.

That night was the first night Sherlock dreamt about John, and the feel of the blonde's body on top of his. When Sherlock woke, he pushed the dream and longing aside and attempted to delete it. He succeeding in pushing it aside, but not deleting it.

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When Sherlock finished his fifth year, John went with him to his family home, grinning at Mycroft (his employer) and charming Sherlock's parents. Mycroft was clearly annoyed they hadn't been able to catch Moriarty, but he, along with his parents, could see the effect John had on Sherlock. The boy hadn't changed drastically or obviously and he didn't hold back his deductions or blunt remarks, but his eyes had a light to them, his words lacked their usual bite and he was often heard laughing in John's presence. Mr and Mrs Holmes found their youngest son's crush cute. Mycroft felt it was his duty as a big brother to warn John.

Let's just say Sherlock wasn't the only Holmes John surprised.

"My brother lacks an intimate understanding of feelings and I am merely looking out for him." Mycroft began.

John interrupted, "You're talking about his feelings that have been developing towards me? Look Mr Holmes, I'm not going to deny the truth about my feelings, I'm attracted to him, emotionally, mentally, romantically, and yes, physically, however you want to put it. And I know he is at least entertained by my presence and likes my company, but he is only just sixteen, and I am twenty-three. I'll not try anything until he is of age, and I'll only do what he wants, I'll only be what he wants. If that's a friend, a brother, a lover or a stranger, then that's what I'll be."

"If he decides he wants nothing to do with you, or if you does not know?"

"I'll not force him or take advantage. He is a brilliant person, Mr Holmes, and I have come to care for him, possibly even love him. I'll not hurt him. Ever. If I do, then I will welcome whatever pain and torture you'll inflict on me." John shrugged. The man then left to return to Sherlock's side, turning up in time to stop the boy from blowing himself up while experimenting with potions.

Mycroft decided then and there that John was perfect for his brother, unless the blonde auror did something to hurt Sherlock.

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Sherlock's sixth year passed without any incidents, although Moriarty remained at large. It was towards the end of Sherlock's seventh and final year when Moriarty showed signs of planning something. To begin with it was simple puzzles, taunting Sherlock. Then it turned into puzzles where other students were hurt if Sherlock didn't solve them. Then they were blown up. Sherlock only failed once, resulting in a first year, Carl Powers, being killed. Only John knew Sherlock was shaken by it. John sat up with Sherlock, sharing his stories of people he'd protected and hunted. Despite being twenty-four, he'd been an auror for six years and he was rather efficient and had achieved many jobs. He'd also started training at fifteen, having started school at eleven in his fourth year due to be home schooled. The stories took Sherlock's mind off the memory of Carl Power's screaming and the abrupt silence that signalled the end of the eleven year old boy's life.

The next time Moriarty staged an attack, he kidnapped John, lured Sherlock out to the forest and proceeded to taunt the seventeen year old boy.

By the time the authorities and teachers found them (due to the explosion), Moriarty was dead and Sherlock was covered in soot, bruises and scratches, and John was unconscious, with blood as leaking from his head and several lacerations on his chest. His blood was pooling around where John laid, and Sherlock was in the middle, holding his robes over John's injuries, applying pressure.

John was quickly taken to St Mungo's, Sherlock followed to get checked out, the Holmes' family met them there and aurors were sent to the school, cleaning up the mess. Snape and McGonagall were first to find the pair in the forest, the first to see Sherlock desperately trying to keep John alive and the only ones to have seen the normally emotionless, cold boy, crying, muttering pleas under his breath that John would be alright. Sherlock refused to leave John's side when he returned from surgery. He stayed curled up in a chair, watching his unconscious bodyguard.

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It took John three weeks to wake up and eventually open his eyes. He was only awake for a few moments, long enough to see Sherlock's worried, pale face before falling back asleep, although this one was natural.

Twelve hours later he woke up again and was awake long enough for Sherlock to say, "Moriarty's gone. You're in St Mungo's. Whatever spell he used on you means your chest can't be healed magically but it is healing naturally. No one else was hurt."

John could see the hidden fear in Sherlock's eyes and knew the boy had been terrified of losing John. He tried to remain awake long enough to reassure the nearly eighteen year old boy but only managed to mumble, "Sher-lock." Before drifting back to sleep.

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It took a while for John to recover enough to be able to stay awake for more than an hour and his chest was healing slowly but surely. Sherlock had reluctantly returned to school in time to complete his NEWTS and then his final year at Hogwarts was over. He spent his graduation at John's hospital ward. Mycroft had long since pulled some strings to get Sherlock permission to stay with John overnight, and the pair were grateful.

"John," Sherlock began to talk, keeping his eyes in his lap, fiddling with his fingers. It had taken nearly two months, but John had nearly recovered enough to be sent home. "I, ah, I have something to tell you, but it is rather, um, sensitive, so I'd appreciate if you took me seriously."

John hid his grin at Sherlock's obvious nerves and said as seriously as he could manage, "Of course Sherlock, what is it?"

"I, ah, I've developed, um, feelings for you, over the course of these past years, and well, I mean, I'm just a boy but –"

"Sherlock, I love you." John interrupted. "Just so you know."

Sherlock gave John one of his rare, true grins. "I believe I love you too, my dear John."

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**The End**

**Please review and let me know what you thought**


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